Fallen
by Skylight Candytuft
Summary: In the end, she knew she'd do it over and over again...for him.


DISCLAIMER: I so do not own Harry Potter. If I did, this wouldn't be called fanfiction. Not by a long shot.

**Fallen**

_Cold…everything was dead cold…_

Her eyes flickered open weakly but she couldn't see anything. It was dark…so, so dark…

All around her, she could hear the faint buzzing of frantic voices escalating into mass hysteria. She could feel herself being lifted off the ground and through some few layers of fabric; she could feel faintly what seemed to be a thudding heart pounding wildly.

It wasn't hers. Her heartbeat should be fading by now…

She tried to lift her fingers and one by one, they twitched before she, with a sigh, gave up to the overwhelming weakness that consumed her. It was funny, really, that she was doing all this…clinging-to-life business when she should already be dead. Her fingers shouldn't be twitching. They should be still and cold and in a few moments, stiff.

So, why wasn't she dead yet? She had not put on any shields when she stood in the path of the curse and in any case, there was no such shield that could stand against the Killing Curse. Her fate had been sealed the moment those words escaped Death Eater lips.

Perhaps…there was something she needed to do first? She smiled wryly at that thought. Unfinished business? That is so cliché. If she had the strength, she would have rolled her eyes already. And since when did unfinished business ever nullify the effects of the Killing Curse?

"She's still alive! Back off! If we can —"

Her heart thudded briefly when she heard _that_ voice. _His_ voice. He sounded frantic…almost desperate. And why was he within the vicinity? The way she knew him, he would've headed straight for the attacker, not crouch over her mostly lifeless body. Speaking of which, where were the Death Eaters?

"It's over, mate. Nothing can help her."

Ron…Weasley? Was he actually feeling sorry for me?

"Let it go, Harry."

Hermione Granger, too.

"Can't be — no —"

Vaguely, she could feel trembling hands gently push away the tendrils of hair that lay across her face. It was…so gentle…almost reverent. There was no hesitance in that touch. Regret, she could vouch for. Pain? But none of that inexperienced hesitance she had grown to loathe in the few months she was "with" him. It was quite the refreshing change.

"Harry…?"

Was that her own voice? Merlin, that was embarrassing!

"I'm here…we'll get you to St. Mungo's, I promise —" he babbled.

She squinted. She could make out the shining green eyes but even that was a blurry picture.

"You can't…" she heard her own voice rasp. "It's over…it's _almost_ over…"

She almost laughed at herself. She was pathetic, really. But then again, she was always pathetic around Harry Potter. It was, like, talent. She simply had it.

"I…just wanted to say…sorry…" she rasped. "I—I sh-should've been…better girlfriend…"

"You were the best," he assured her fiercely.

She chuckled weakly. "Don't let Ginny…hear…"

Her eyes fluttered shut. She could no longer hold them open.

"NO!"

She felt something warm land on her nose. Sweat? It was freezing.

They were…tears. _His_ tears.

"I love you…" she whispered fiercely. "Remember…I have always loved you…"

And then the eternal cold. The pitch-black darkness. The unending silence.

In the end, there was nothing.

A brilliant light flashed beneath her closed eyes. She remembered laughter and butterflies and sunshine. She remembered green eyes and shy smiles. She remembered everything she could remember about him and if she remembered hard enough, she could feel the wind rushing past her as she followed him on her broomstick and she laughed. She could count on him to _always_ get the Snitch.

She remembered how she died. How he stood ready to face a death that was not his for now. She remembered a flash of green light. She remembered stunned green eyes and the satisfied smile that crossed her lips for a fleeting moment before she fell.

And what a fall!

"Would you do it again, Cho?" a voice drifted softly in her ear. "Die for him? The prat?"

She smiled and turned to the voice.

"Yes, I'll die for the prat over and over and _over_ again."

She had fallen deep.


End file.
